


Never Too Late

by WhenTheCanonShootsOnlyBlanks



Category: Jane the Virgin (TV)
Genre: Comfort, F/F, Means there is probably some hurt in there too, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-14 20:30:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11790888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhenTheCanonShootsOnlyBlanks/pseuds/WhenTheCanonShootsOnlyBlanks
Summary: Sometimes people make the wrong decisions for the right reasons, but it is never too late to do things differently, especially with the support of the woman you love behind you.





	Never Too Late

**Author's Note:**

> I have decided 52 works in progress was too much to handle, and the easiest solution was to post some of them.
> 
> Enjoy!

‘Babe, I’m back!’ Rose called out as she pulled her key from the lock. ‘Good news! I’ve managed to get…’ She trailed off as she noticed Luisa wasn’t there. The house was quiet. Luisa must have gone out.

She shrugged, putting the envelope down on the kitchen counter before walking deeper into their house. Maybe she could get some work done before Luisa came home so they could celebrate after.

One quick clothing change later she walked into her studio, a Caravaggio was waiting for her attention. But the multimillion dollar work from the renaissance master was not on the easel she had left it at earlier that morning. Instead she found Luisa standing in front of an unfinished canvas, headphones in her ears and paintbrush in her hand, the Caravaggio carefully put to the side.

Rose watched for a couple of minutes as Luisa painted, her tongue adorably poking out between her lips as she concentrated. Between Luisa’s focus and the music undoubtedly blasting in her ears, it wasn’t any wonder she hadn’t heard Rose come in.

Luisa seemed to know what she was doing, which surprised Rose a little as she had never seen Luisa anywhere near a paintbrush before.

Deciding she had spied on Luisa for long enough now, she fully stepped into the room, making more noise than she normally would to avoid startling Luisa.

Luisa, however, was so lost in her painting Rose had to touch her arm her to pull her out of her concentration, startling her in the process.

‘Rose! I didn’t hear you come in,’ Luisa said, pulling the headphones from her ears. ‘Sorry about this. I know I shouldn’t touch your work stuff, but I was very careful, put on gloves and everything,’ Luisa rambled.

‘Luisa, it’s fine,’ Rose said, putting her hands on Luisa’s shoulder to stop her in her tracks. ‘No worries.’

‘Just, sorry, I shouldn’t have been in here regardless.’ Luisa let her head hang.

‘I didn’t know you had any desire to be in here,’ Rose said, wrapping her arm around Luisa’s shoulders and pulling her close, not sure why Luisa was acting like she just caught her doing something bad. ‘Have you painted before? That’s really good.’ Rose motioned to the painting on the easel.

‘No, it’s not. It’s stupid, let’s forget about it,’ Luisa said as she moved to take the painting off the easel.

‘Hey, hey, hey!’ Rose said, batting Luisa’s hands away. ‘It’s not stupid, I really like it, you should finish it.’

‘Come on, Rose,’ Luisa sighed. ‘Don’t lie to me, how can I ever compare to that?’ She motioned to the Caravaggio in the corner.

‘Well, first of, you shouldn’t compare yourself to Caravaggio. That is a classical painting, while yours is decidedly more modern. You wouldn’t compare Picasso with Caravaggio either. They both make beautiful paintings in their own right. I should know, they pay me to know about art.’

‘It’s not a Picasso either,’ Luisa said humorlessly, trying to sidestep Rose to leave the room. But Rose wasn’t going to let her. Something was going on.

‘No, it’s an Alver, and it is really good,’ Rose said.

Luisa looked at her skeptically.

‘Fine, you want my professional opinion?’ Rose said, looking at the painting a little more closely. ‘I like your colors, they’re soft but not muted. They still jump out at you. I like how they blend together. Also your command of the brush is really good, it’s almost pointillism, which is really hard to achieve with the brush you’re using. It speaks to me, all good art should speak to you.’

‘You really like it?’ Luisa asked softly.

‘Yes, I really do. And I can also tell this isn’t the first time you held a brush. Why didn’t you tell me you painted?’

Luisa shrugged, collapsing onto the couch Rose had dragged into her studio so Luisa could sit with her while she worked. ‘Because I don’t, really. I haven’t for a long time.’

‘Why not?’ Rose asked as she joined her on the couch.

‘It’s not my thing.’

‘Liar,’ Rose said, Luisa was holding something back, which was unusual as Luisa very much wore her heart on her sleeve. ‘Tell me why you don’t paint more.’

‘Because I don’t have right to do so, okay?!’ Luisa exploded. ‘I have seen what’s already out there, and I couldn’t possibly add to it. Look at that!’ She pointed to the Caravaggio. ‘Look at you! The most prestigious museums on the planet pay you to restore their masterpieces, that’s how good you are! I can’t do that.’

Tears had started to form in Luisa’s eyes as she spoke.

Rose found the insecurity and self-doubt radiating from the normally confident Luisa a little disturbing. She wasn’t sure how to handle it, but she couldn’t just do nothing while Luisa cried.

‘Lu. Luisa, listen to me.’ She took Luisa’s hands in her own, making her look at her. ‘I can paint what others have done before me. They pay me to _restore,_ not to paint. I don’t make originals, I don’t have that skill.’

‘You have painted and drawn me many times,’ Luisa retorted.

‘That is different. I can copy things, including people. But my paintings don’t have heart. I am not creative in that way. My paintings are just reproductions, that’s what I am good at. No one would buy one of my originals. But yours? I could name three buyers right now who would love to have your painting in their collection once you finish it. You make originals, your paintings tell a story, Lu. Mine are just copies. That’s all they are.’

Luisa was crying in earnest now, hot tears streaming down her cheeks.

‘Tell me what’s going on with you?’ Rose asked, gathering Luisa up in her arms, pressing soft kisses to her shoulder in the hope to calm her down. ‘This obviously means a lot to you.’

Luisa shook her head, burying her face against Rose’s shoulder as she cried, her tears not showing any sign of slowing down yet.

‘Okay, later then,’ Rose soothed, holding Luisa tightly and petting her hair.

Hours later, after a shower and two cups of tea, Luisa shuffled back into the living room, clutching something to her chest, thrusting it at Rose without a word.

‘What’s this?’ Rose asked as she accepted the folder from Luisa.

‘Just open it,’ Luisa said, still subdued as sat down next to Rose, staring at her feet as Rose opened the folder.

‘California Institute of the Arts…’ Rose read. ‘This is a college application.’ She then noticed the date, Luisa would have been 17 when she filled this out. Behind it was Luisa’s portfolio, pictures of about twenty different paintings, showing off her skills. ‘You got rejected?’

Luisa shook her head. ‘I never sent it in.’

‘Why not?’ Rose asked, continuing to look at the different pages of Luisa’s work. ‘These are really good. Especially as you were only 17.’

‘I felt like I should do something different. I had already applied to a pre-med program in Florida. It seemed like a better fit,’ Luisa said, her eyes still downcast.

Rose narrowed her eyes, Luisa was still not telling her the real reason. ‘So you went to med-school and never thought about painting again until today? I am sure you could have done an arts program alongside studying medicine, you’ve an IQ of 153, if anyone could do it, it would be you.’

‘That’s the point!’ Luisa said, her head snapping up. ‘My whole life I’ve heard that I am smart! Really smart. That I would become a doctor, or a lawyer and do great things. I couldn’t go to art school! I would be wasting my potential. I couldn’t tell my father, who for once in my life was proud of me, that I wanted to paint. So I didn’t send in the application, never even mentioned it to him. I went to study medicine and stopped painting. It was what I was supposed to do.’

And that, Rose realized, was where the crux of this whole thing rested. A sense of obligation pushed onto Luisa ever since she was a child. By her father, by her teachers, probably by complete strangers, all because she was smart.

‘So you became a doctor, in line with everyone’s wishes except your own,’ Rose summarized.

‘I enjoyed being a doctor. It was good to help people. Why else would I ask you to see if you get my license back?’

‘Shit, I forgot,’ Rose said, suddenly remembering what she had come in saying initially. She picked the envelope off the table. ‘I got you your license back. I was going to tell you but then this whole thing happened.’

‘I can practice medicine here?’ Luisa asked, taking the envelope from Rose’s hands. Trying very hard to force a smile but it didn’t reach her eyes.

‘If you want to, yes. But I think maybe you should reconsider.’

‘What do you mean?’ Luisa asked.

‘Will it make you happy? To go back to being a gynecologist?’

‘Of course it will, sitting here at home is driving me insane. What else could I do?’

‘Well,’ Rose said, holding up Luisa’s old college application. ‘You could go to art school.’

Luisa laughed, the sound joyless and a little choked. ‘It’s a little late for that, don’t you think?’

‘Why would it be too late?’ Rose asked.

‘Because I am 40 years old, Rose. I can’t go back to college.’

‘Sure, you can. You have the time and the money, and I think you’d really like it.’

‘Just let it go, Rose. I’m going back into medicine. No college necessary.’

‘Lu, if I learned one thing over the years, it is you should do what you love. And you don’t love medicine.’ She picked up Luisa’s portfolio again. ‘This young girl wanted to go to art school, but didn’t because of the expectations of others and it made her miserable. Don’t make the same mistake now.’

‘Med school didn’t make me miserable,’ Luisa said, not very convincingly.

‘Alright, maybe I am wrong. But I think you should give art school a shot. No one is forcing any expectations upon you now. I just want you to be happy.’

Luisa sighed. ‘I’m happy now, Rose. I can go back to work and I have you, that’s all I need.’

‘Okay, then I am happy too,’ Rose said, putting her hands on Luisa’s elbows, pulling her closer. ‘Now come on, doctor. Let’s celebrate.’

Later that night, after a lengthy celebration and a takeout dinner, they lay curled up in bed together. Luisa the little spoon for a change, she’d had an emotional day after all.

‘If, hypothetically, I would go to art school, how would that even work?’

Rose smiled, she’d hoped Luisa would come back on her earlier decision.

‘Well, you would go to classes and I would go to work. It wouldn’t change all that much.’

‘We’d be seeing less of each other.’

‘Yes, but that would also be true if you went back to work as an OB/GYN,’ Rose said, pressing a comforting kiss to Luisa’s shoulder. ‘It will be good to both have other things to do.’

‘And what about our plans for the future? We’ll have to settle down here for the duration of my studies and we talked about maybe having children. We would have to put that on hold.’

‘Well, I don’t know about you,’ Rose said, squeezing Luisa’s sides softly. ‘but I kind of like it here. I wouldn’t mind staying here for a couple more years. And why can’t we have children while you’re in college? Don’t make obstacles where there are none, we can do this together, like we do everything. Okay?’

‘I’ll think about it,’ Luisa said. ‘It’s a lot to consider.’

‘That’s all I ask,’ Rose smiled, Luisa had come this far already, the end was basically in sight.

* * *

‘What kinds of paints do you like to use?’ Rose asked the following morning over breakfast.

‘Why?’

‘Because I thought we could go out later and get you some things. So you can work on your college application,’ Rose said, letting her grin shine through.

Luisa was not in as good a mood, glaring at Rose instead. ‘Don’t push it, Rose. I said I would think about it.’

‘Alright.’ Rose pacifyingly put her hands up. ‘Regardless, we should still get you your own easel and paints, even if it’s just as a hobby.’

This Luisa seemed to consider. ‘Okay. I will feel less guilty when I don’t have to move multimillion dollar painting out of the way when I want to screw around in your studio.’

Rose leaned out of her seat, kissing Luisa softly. ‘The museum will be happy too.’

Luisa laughed. ‘I still can’t believe they let you work on them. Do they know you used to steal their paintings?’

‘Allegedly,’ Rose corrected with a cocky smirk.

‘Bullshit, Rose,’ Luisa laughed.

It was good to hear Luisa laugh.

‘I love you,’ Rose said suddenly.

‘I love you too. Now eat your breakfast,’ Luisa commanded, soft smile still playing around her lips.

‘Yes, ma’am,’ Rose saluted, getting a bunched up napkin in her face for her troubles.

* * *

It took a whole week for Luisa to set foot in Rose’s studio again. Her unfinished painting standing on her brand-new easel, fresh tubes of oil paint displayed next to it.

‘Hey,’ Rose greeted, putting her palette down, looking up from the Manet she was working on.

‘Any objection to me being in here with you?’ Luisa asked, dawdling on the doorstep.

‘None at all,’ Rose smiled.

‘Okay. Good,’ Luisa nodded, slowly stepping into the room.

Rose turned around and busied herself with the painting, giving Luisa some space. Knowing it took a lot of courage for Luisa to even set foot back into the room.

They worked side by side for hours, both focused on their own thing, but enjoying each other’s presence none the less.

‘It’s beautiful,’ Rose said as she joined Luisa, taking a sip from her glass of water.

‘Yeah?’ Luisa asked, turning to look at Rose, a little unsure still, but a smile playing around the corners of her lips.

‘Yeah,’ Rose nodded. ‘I think it would look great over the fireplace, don’t you?’

‘You want to replace the Van Gogh with this?’

‘ _Copy_ of a Van Gogh,’ Rose said, managing to remain serious for a couple of seconds before giving in to her laughter. ‘And yes, it was about time the National Gallery got their Van Gogh back. I just didn’t know what else to put up in its place. I do now.’

‘Alright,’ Luisa said. ‘If it means the return of stolen property I will let you hang it up in the living room.’

‘That’s the spirit,’ Rose smiled, pressing a kiss to Luisa’s cheek.

After that Luisa was in Rose’s studio whenever she herself was, she hadn’t yet gone out looking for a job as a doctor, but she hadn’t brought up going to art school either.

Rose held her promise and didn’t bring it up again. She knew Luisa would do so when she was ready.

That turned out to be a nearly a month later. They were sitting on the couch, watching some movie on TV when Luisa brought it up.

‘I want to do it.’

‘Do what?’ Rose asked, pretending she hadn’t noticed Luisa looking off to the side, where her painting hung above the fireplace.

‘Go to art school. I want to do it. I want to focus on painting for a while.’

‘Great!’ Rose smiled. ‘That makes me very happy.’

‘Me too,’ Luisa smiled, wrapping her arms around Rose in a squeezing hug. ‘Thank you, for pushing me.’

Rose stroked a lock of hair behind Luisa’s ear. ‘Of course, I love you. And you should do what you love, not what you feel you need to do.’

Luisa sighed, reclining back against Rose’s chest.  ‘Oh, where were you when I was a senior?’

‘In sixth grade,’ Rose teased.

Luisa smacked her leg. ‘Don’t make it weird.’

‘Sorry,’ Rose laughed, brushing her lips against Luisa’s shoulder, the movie all but forgotten.

‘How do you know me better than I know myself?’

‘Because I love you,’ Rose smiled. ‘Always, while you don’t always love yourself.’

‘I just feel so stupid, you know? Doing what other people wanted of me, instead of what I wanted.’

‘Don’t. Everyone does stupid things for other people. It’s human nature.’

Luisa turned around slightly. ‘What did _you_ do?’

Rose looked away. ‘Far worse things than going to med school instead of art school.’

‘Well, we’re both here now,’ Luisa said, wrapping Rose’s arms around her waist.

‘We are. And you know, in a couple of months people will look at _me_ strangely when I say I am dating a student.’

‘If I get in,’ Luisa said, suddenly insecure again.

‘I have no doubt you will, you’re amazing.’

‘Well, so are you.’ Luisa turned around in Rose’s arms. ‘And about doing the things I love…’ she let the sentence trail off suggestively.

Rose laughed, definitely not against that course of action.

* * *

* * *

‘Go to her then,’ Rose encouraged the toddler before releasing her hand, watching with fondness in her eyes as Mia took off towards her other mother.

‘Mamá,’ Mia cheered, running into her mother’s embrace.

‘Hello sweetheart,’ Luisa said, lifting the girl up on her hip. ‘You look so pretty!’

Mia smiled proudly. ‘Mommy said we had to dress up for your gradu- graduiation!’

‘Graduation,’ Rose corrected gently as she joined her two girls.

‘Well, you both look stunning.’ Luisa’s eyes seeking out Rose’s, smiling warmly at her.

‘So do you, my love,’ Rose said, leaning in to kiss Luisa, careful not to knock her graduation cap aside.

‘Squishing me!’ Mia spluttered, still pressed in between her mother.

‘Sorry, niña.’ Luisa put her down. ‘Why don’t you go get some apple juice? It’s on that table over there.’

‘Okay!’ Mia said before she happily ran off in search of apple juice.

‘She has some excess energy to burn off. The speeches were a bit much for her,’ Rose said they watched Mia chat excitedly with the woman handing out drinks.

‘She didn’t have to come, graduations are quite boring for three-year-olds.’

‘She wanted to. We’re both so proud of you,’ Rose smiled, leaning in for another kiss.

‘I wouldn’t have been here if it wasn’t for you,’ Luisa breathed, tears shining in her eyes, reminding Rose of all the teary-eyed talks they had all those years ago.

‘I just gave you a push in the right direction, you did all of this by yourself.’ She wrapped her arm around Luisa’s waist. ‘Speaking about, we should probably get going if you don’t want to be late. I’ll go get Mia, you say goodbye to everyone. We’ll meet you by the car.’

* * *

‘Mia!’ Rose yelled as the girl took off at a dead sprint across the parking lot.

‘I got her,’ Luisa said as she took off after their daughter. ‘How often do we have to say you can’t run away from us on parking lots like that? It’s dangerous,’ Luisa said, bending down to her daughter’s height.

‘Sorry, mamá,’ Mia said, looking properly chastised.

‘Now don’t do it again, okay?’

Mia nodded.

‘Lu, you might want to take that off,’ Rose said as she joined them, motioning to Luisa’s graduation gown.

‘Right. You want to hold this one for me, honey?’ she said as held out her cap to Mia, who nodded eagerly. The cap was a little big on her, sinking down over her eyes.

‘Now you look just like your mother,’ Rose smiled, accepting the mock-silk gown from Luisa, revealing the beautiful blue dress she had worn underneath.

‘Can we go in now?’ Mia asked, bouncing on the heels of her feet.

‘Yes, let’s go.’ Luisa took Mia’s hand, walking towards the building’s lit entrance.

Rose smiled as applause rose as they entered, Mia beaming under the attention, Luisa uncharacteristically shy.

‘Ladies and gentlemen, the artist!’ the owner of the gallery said, the applause becoming deafening.

‘Come on, give your speech,’ Rose said as she pushed Luisa forward. ‘You deserve it.’

Luisa smiled, kissing Rose’s lips before making her way up the stage.

She talked for a bit about her paintings, what had inspired her and the usual artist mumbo-jumbo.

‘Lastly, I want to thank my beautiful daughter, Mia, who provided the opening piece for this show.’ More applause, a spotlight shining on the childish drawing behind Luisa. ‘And of course, my gorgeous wife, who is here tonight to support me despite the fact that she is 8 months pregnant with twins and there are no chairs anywhere in sight.’

The room applauded again, Rose joining in. She couldn’t have been prouder of her newly graduate wife who had her own show in one of the city’s most famous galleries.

‘One day they’ll pay me to restore your paintings,’ Rose whispered as Luisa joined her again.

‘That would be a great honor,’ Luisa laughed.

‘Now, show me around Mrs. Alver. I want to see what you’ve been working on in secret for all these months.’

‘With pleasure.’

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are much appreciated!


End file.
